


Bullseye

by Leaveitbrii



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:58:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaveitbrii/pseuds/Leaveitbrii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After having to uproot his life and move in with his sister, Eren gets a job at a ramen shop.</p><p>I may or may not suck a summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adjustment

“This is our first time together in two years.”

Eren looks up from his plate, food untouched and cold, to Mikasa. She wore a pleasant expression, almond eyes glittering. They hadn’t spoken since she left for college, mainly because Eren hated that she got to leave while he sat around and nursed their dying mother. Mikasa looked the same she did as when they were younger, hair still the color of coffee, but her eyes were older. Her apartment was small, built for two, and empty. It held more personality than a paper plate.

“I know it’s difficult,” Mikasa began. “But we’ll adjust.”

“I’m not hungry.” 

The floor protests when he pushes his chair back and stands. Mikasa doesn’t stop him, but she doesn’t continue eating. Eren heads to his room. It was closest to the front door and tiny, used previously as a storage area. There were still small boxes filled with Mikasa’s belongings tucked in the corner. Eren closes the door, pressing against it before he slides down to the floor. His head sinks into the space between his knees, chewing the inside of his lip. 

It wasn’t Mikasa’s fault that he had to handle their mother while she went away to follow her dreams but he wants it to be. He wants to blame her lack of responsibility for the reason why a fifteen year old was left to carry out the deeds their father should have been there for because then it would make this notion of anger towards her acceptable. She’s an easy target; a tangible one unlike their father who had disappeared into his work without a look back. 

A knock comes to the door.

“I’m heading out. I left money on the counter and wrapped up your food.” There is a pause. “We can go shopping tomorrow for things that you like after school.”

Eren leans his head back into the door. “Okay.”

He doesn’t tell her to be safe, to drive safely and check in once she’s made it, but he prays that she is. When the front door closes, he waits for another 20 seconds before getting up. His suitcase remains where he left it, unopened, beside an old daybed Mikasa had bought for him. It was soft, decorated in plush pillows and a quilt that had seen better days. Eren kicks at his suitcase grudgingly, his mind finally settling into the idea that he would be stuck here until he graduated or until his dad came back.

He finds the money Mikasa left, two crisp twenties, and pockets it, twirling his keychain on his index finger as he leaves. Experience reminds him to lock the door, the bland smell of the hallway following him to the elevator. It’s hasn’t even been a day but Eren has yet to see any other tenants or any sign of life at all in any of the other apartments. The elevator shaft reeks of mildew, but it was better than six flights of steps.

Mikasa lived in the city, just as impersonal and dry as her apartment. His new school wasn’t far, near a coffee shop that didn’t seem to see many faces. There was a run down foreign theater across the street and another apartment complex, along with other stores that were either boutiques or sold pointless shit- like old, broken filmstrips. Eren finds the ramen shop two blocks down, silently praising himself for remembering where it was from the drive down.

“Yo, welcome to Hanji’s! I’m Hanji.” A woman chirps from the counter, pushing her glasses off the tip of her nose. Her smile is broad and welcoming despite the height difference between them. There is a kitchen behind her, separated from the rest of the restaurant by a counter and a wall. Eren isn’t sure what to make of her, his mouth twisting shut when she beams at him.

“Oh, I’ve never seen you before. New to the neighborhood?”

“Yeah.” Eren answers, uneasy.

“Well, don’t be shy. Hop on up here.” The woman- Hanji- pats the counter in front of her, where various stools are set. Eren slides onto one of them without question, suddenly feeling intimidated. He watches her watch him, face pinched, scrutinizing, before a sickening sweet smile curls onto her face. 

“This is the menu.” 

Hanji directs his attention to a chalkboard on the wall beside them. It’s up against the wall near the door, marked with different flavors and types along with tiny drawings that look precariously like little people being chased by a bigger drawing. Eren stares at the menu until the letters run together. Hanji makes a huffing noise, but she’s smiling when he turns to her again.

“Let me guess, you’re used to store bought, microwavable ramen?”

Eren nods, cheeks heating up.

Hanji pats his head. “Not to fret, dear. I’ll make you something nice.”

Eren watches her disappear behind the wall, coming back with a chopping board full of meat. She places it front of her, using her other hand to snap on the boiler. Her body moves like water and Eren stares after her every movement transfixed until a bowl lands in front of him, steam melting his insides. The broth is dark with a thick chunk of pork set on top and an egg.

“It’s simple but good. You don’t have to be Japanese to make good ramen.”

Eren nods, transfixed, and Hanji laughs, taking his hand and slipping a pair of chopsticks into it. She pokes his forehead.

“If you don’t eat it soon, it’ll get cold. Then I’ll feel offended.”

Eren swallows thickly, rolling his fingers around the wood before he makes the first plunge. It melts in his mouth upon impact and Eren shudders out a moan. Hanji claps her hands, a delighted noise leaving her mouth. She leans against the counter, chin tucked into the palm of her hand.

“Where are you from?”

“Zhiganshina.” Eren manages to say around a mouthful of noodles.

“Oh? What brings you to Trost?”

He pauses to breathe. “My sister.”

“Hm, nothing like siblings to drag you miles away from home.” Hanji hums.

Eren pauses, noodles millimeters away from his lips, and he sets them down. He never thought of how Mikasa felt having to pause her life for her brother, not even her actual brother but her foster brother. She could have left him there. Hanji places a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at her. Her smile is warm, but she says nothing. The door dings open behind him, a dit dit noise. 

“Ah, Levi, you’re alive.”

“You can’t say things like that, Hanji.” The voice is deep, a rich smooth velvet, and Eren turns in his seat, for the sake of having a face to fit it. He’s expecting a large man with broad shoulders, who dresses in slacks and suits. What he finds is indeed a male, but he’s strangely short with a permanent look of indifference. There was a blazer folded over his arm, the tie around his collar loose and dangling, pants formfitting and black. He had on tall riding boots that reached his knees, his eyes steely, narrow, and they were locking on Eren with a sliver of annoyance.

“Who the fuck is this?”

Eren could feel his mouth drop, Hanji making a noise that seems torn between an eye roll and a smile. He feels compelled to retaliate, anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach but Hanji effectively cuts him off so he grumbles his feelings into the ramen bowl beneath him, eating slowly.

“Don’t be rude, Levi. This is- Actually I never got your name.”

“Eren.”

Hanji nods. “This is Eren.”

Levi rolls his eyes, closing the door behind him. “Noted.”

“How was practice?” Hanji inquires, tapping her fingers on the counter.

“Irvin is still persistent in his efforts.”

“So you didn’t go?”

“I had other things to deal with.” He sounds tired.

Levi hoists himself onto the stool beside Eren, folding his blazer over his legs. Hanji has begun making a new batch, a quietly humming. Eren can feel the other man’s gaze burning into the side of his face and he looks, noodles hanging limply from his mouth. Levi’s face darkens, mouth grimacing as if Eren is the most disgusting thing in the world.

“You bring the messiest eaters in her, Hanji.” He snorts.

“He’s sweet. He even likes my ramen.”

Levi levels her with a pointed look. “Everyone likes your ramen.”

Hanji shrugs, smiling, and places a bowl in front of him. Its bare unlike Eren’s with a clear broth and small bits of seafood floating around. Levi stares at it for a brief moment before he grasps a pair of chopsticks offered by Hanji. He eats slow, doesn’t slurp, doesn’t shovel large masses of noodles into his mouth. Eren wonders if this is how people eat who practice patients. Levi seems to be able to sense his gaze, eyes shifting over to him with a fierce quickness. He swallows.

“You like watching people eat, kid?”

Eren bristles. “I’m not a kid.”

“Oh?” Levi raises an amused eyebrow at him. “How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.” Eren grits out.

“A child.” Levi snorts, turning away from him. 

The idea of being dismissed as nothing by a total stranger is something he’s never encountered. Its then that Eren realizes that he doesn’t have to sit here or even be here, that this was a restaurant that could be left at any time. Hanji regards them curiously, her eyes following Eren’s movements to his pocket.

“How much?” 

Hanji shakes her head. “If you promise to come back then it’s free.”

Eren thinks it over. He sees Levi eying him out of the corner of his eyes as if further examining his ‘childness’. Eren nods. Hanji face splits into a wide grin.

“I expect to see you tomorrow then.”

Eren leaves the shop, but not before giving her a small wave. Levi doesn’t move in his seat. The walk back isn’t quite as long as the walk there, the emptiness of the 6th floor. He stares at the apartment door, the steady suffocating feeling of the insides seeping from under the door. Mikasa would rarely be home, while he sits up in her boring apartment with nothing to do; being babied and left money on the counter. He thinks of Levi calling him a child.

Eren takes the stairs this time, two at a time, and practically runs all the way back to Hanji’s. Levi is gone but she is there, clearly startled by his sudden reappearance. Eren hurries to the counter.

“Do you need any help?” 

Hanji blinks at him. “For work?”

He nods and she adjusts her glasses. “It’d be nice to have some days off without closing the shop. Alright, Eren, lemme show you how to work things.”

And he was hired.


	2. Hanji's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day on the job.

Eren wakes up to the fluttery ring of his alarm, ceiling spinning over him. He pinches his eyes closed and rolls onto his back, the bottoms of his palms massaging circles into his face. Dressing is easy, the boring uniform laid out on hangars in the closet. Eren eats an apple, noticing Mikasa’s door is ajar. He peeks inside, his sister’s sleeping face buried in an assortment of pillows. She’s still in her work uniform. 

Eren makes her breakfast, wrapping it up in plastic before setting it in the fridge with a note. There is a message from Hanji on his phone saying that he should swing by after school. Eren packs an extra pair of clothes in his book bag, grudgingly tucking his crumpled schedule in his pocket.

He walks because it’s easy and he’s never liked buses, following the directions Mikasa had wrote for him. The glossy pristine of his school shattering whatever expectations he had for a first day. It’s a bit past the urban area of the city with its own center of fields and lands. There is a bridge that covers an unnecessary hole in the earth, the only imperfection, and Eren crosses over it with a feeling of trepidation. 

Kids are scattered about the clean-cut lawns in loosely mixed cliques. Eren hurries down the sidewalk, not missing the second glances and lingering stares. He’s sure that they could smell his newness. It was the middle of the year, but surely people didn’t just notice new kids. Eren gets through two periods, stumbling up and down stairs to find his classes, without speaking a word to anyone. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing. 

“Hey, you’re new.”

Eren turns his head from the window he was staring out of, a blonde boy standing in front of his desk. He withdraws his chin from his palm, straightening in his seat as the boy takes a chair from a nearby desk and drags it over. His eyes are large, a sparkling blue. He wore a smile that was probably meant to be friendly. Eren decides to smile back, a sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue. But this was the first act of contact he had made with anyone in this shit school.

He settles for “yes.”

The boy nods, his insecurity melting. “I’m Armin.”

“Eren.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

Eren lifts his shoulders. “It’s just a name.”

Silence falls over them, Eren fixing his attention back outside. There was a tree near the window. He almost snorted at the cliché. At some point Eren forgets that Armin is sitting in front of him; he was quiet, watchful. Eren tilts his head upwards and Armin gives him an uneasy smile. Eren can take a hint.

“Have you always been here?” 

Armin shakes his head. “I’m new too actually. I arrived a week ago.”

“From where?”

“Zhiganshina.”

Eren gapes at him. “Me too.”

It was a ridiculous notion to think no one ever left Zhiganshina but no one ever did and no one ever moved there. Armin beams at him, blue eyes glittering, smile a bit too big for his face. He looks half ready to speak, half ready to explode when the ring of his name echoes from the other side of the room. Armin’s head snaps around with an audible click and Eren cringes at the noise. He follows the other’s line of vision, two boys drawing near, one with a particularly dorky expression. 

“Oi, Armin! We were waiting at your locker.” The dork one says. He’s smaller than Eren, smaller than the boy he walked over with, his hair shaved close to his head. He eyes Eren before giving what could be considered a smile. 

“Hey, I’m Connie.”

Eren shakes the hand he offers. “Eren.”

“That’s a neat name.”

Eren flushes. “It’s just a name.”

Connie smiles, gesturing to other boy. “This is Marco.”

Marco gives him a small wave. “Well it looks like 3 has become 4.”

It was the first day, for him, so Eren wasn’t expecting to make friends or have somewhere to sit at lunch but things usually don’t pan out the way he expects them too. He meets a girl named Sasha, who was very welcoming after he gave her his pudding, and another named Mina. His name received the same level of awe each time he said it. He wonders if people just lived under rocks. 

“You work?” Armin’s eyes widen exceptionally.

Eren nods, books tucked under his arm. He fiddles with his locker, cursing silently when the combination given didn’t work a second try. Armin clucks his tongue, pushing Eren out of the way. He takes the slip of paper with the combination written and twists it in, giving a small punch against the door after. It clicks open.

“Some of the lockers are a bit defective.”

“I think you’re just heaven sent.” Eren mumbles, tugging his book bag out.

Armin’s face reddens. “So, I think this makes us friends.”

“I guess it does.” The corners of his lips twitch upward. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Armin snorts at him but gives a wave and is half down the hall when Eren manages to get his books inside of his locker. He waits until he reaches the coffee shop to change into casual clothing. Hanji said as long as he came in clothes it didn’t matter what he wore, so he opted for jeans and an old band t-shirt that might have been Mikasa at one point. 

Hanji greets him when he finally walks inside, glasses pushed down the bridge of her nose. Her hair is tied up like usual, apron hanging loosely over one arm. She beckons him behind the counter.

“I only came in to open up and give you a key. Believe it or not, I’m a graduate student.”

Eren takes the apron offered to him. “At the university?”

Hanji nods. “Yes, yes. We recently received more volunteers for a project. I’m very excited. Their names are Sonny and Bean. They’re a bit-“ She flaps her hands. “But willing.”

He’s not sure what her gesture meant. “What’s your project about?”

The lenses of her glasses gleam. “Pain tolerance.”

Her tone makes him uncomfortable. “Oh.”

Hanji pats his head and talks him back through how the store works. There were noodles in the back and meat in the freezer if he somehow managed to go through everything. She shows him where the vegetables are, followed by the sauces and extra chopsticks and a mop. 

“You got this?”

Eren nods, wiping down the counter. 

“Wonderful. Close up at 9.” Hanji’s smile is a flicker behind the closing of the door. 

The silence is a soothing guest, whispers of individuals passing by the windows with suitcases and uniforms. Eren busies himself with homework while he waits for a customer, chewing the eraser of his pencil. It’s a pleasant distraction from the calculus homework laid out before him. He sometimes wishes he hadn’t tried so hard in school. The dinging of the door pulls him from his thoughts. A couple walks in, loudly chatting about the true pronunciation of Naruto. 

After managing to fix the noodles accurately by following the directions Hanji was nice enough to write down for him (all 56 recipes), Eren’s chest swells with pride when the woman manages to quiet down and demand another bowl as soon as she finishes. Whatever reservations he had about working at a ramen shop were quickly diminished upon the arrival of another customer. 

Between cooking and chatting politely with guests, Eren manages to finish all his homework. He leans against the counter, lazily chewing on a piece of seaweed, his gaze locked on the different pans above the boiler.

“Brat, where is Hanji?”

Eren jumps, biting the inside of his cheek hard, at the sudden noise. He spins around on his heel, the warm metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. Levi is standing near the door, the corner of his mouth slightly tilted upward. He’s in a loose, dark sweater, jeans tight. It’s painfully casual and Eren almost wants to comment on it. 

“Didn’t hear me?” The amused expression is quickly replaced by annoyance. 

Eren finds his tongue. “She had school.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “Shit.” He looks to Eren. “You work here now.”

He nods despite it not being a question. Levi walks up to the counter and presses a finger onto the surface, wiping slowly. He examines the finger.

“You clean a lot better than her.” 

His tone implies that it’s an amazing compliment. “Uh, thanks.”

Levi climbs onto a stool, folding one leg over the other. His scrutinizing eye giving Eren a once over before their eyes meet. The coldness in his face is unnerving. He leans against the counter, chin tucked in the palm of one hand, appearing amused.

“Do you want your usual? Hanji, uh, she left a note.” Eren squints at the index paper, Hanji’s writing sloppy in regards to Levi’s “Seafood Surprise.”

“No. I ate already. Get me a tea.” Levi hums. “Black, sugar and milk.”

Eren makes a noise in the back of his throat, checking the kitchen for where Hanji keeps the tea. He finds different containers with labels but none read black. The next five minutes are spent scrambling to find black tea until he runs into Levi, who is suddenly behind the counter. Their height difference is painfully obvious.

“Move, you little shit.” Eren does, cheeks burning.

Levi finds the tea with ease, moving aside a couple of containers until he found it. He pushes it into Eren’s arms with an annoyed look before walking back to his seat. 

“Brew it for three minutes.” Levi tells him.

“Okay.” 

Eren sets up a kettle, heating the water quickly then goes to fill a small cup full of milk. He sets that and the sugar on the counter near Levi. The kettle whistles and Eren takes it off the eye, pouring the hot water over the filter. He watches the leaves dampen, the water underneath darkening as they wait. After three minutes, Eren takes out the filter and sets it in front of Levi. He watches him fix the tea to his liking, a little milk, two spoonfuls of sugar. It’s cute.

Rather than being obligated to give into temptation and possibly be maimed, Eren is forced to focus on a gangly group of teenagers that flow inside. There are gleams of colors, faces he recognizes from school, but none he knows. They order and Levi asks for tea once the group moves on. 

Hanji’s becomes much louder, whistles and laughter pounding into his ears. He’s happy about the consistency of the orders, nothing too complicated or extreme. Eren thanks the universe for simple ramen orders. He also thanks the universe for Levi’s calm silence, his expression serene with each sip. 

“Good to know that you don’t make tea taste like shit.” Levi pauses to use a napkin.

Eren can’t formulate a response, moving to take the last two orders to the table of teenagers. They consist of mostly boys, but there are two girls with them, one flirting heavily with the other. Eren almost wants to say they’re on a date and the rest sort of tagged along. He sets the bowls down in front of their respective owners, earning unified thanks. 

“Another.” Levi hands him his cup.

“Your manners are out of this world.”

“Cute.”

Eren brews him another cup.

“Are you in graduate school too?”

Levi tilts his head to the side. “And to think I thought you were going to ask if I was in high school.”

“Well no. You look older than me even though you’re-“ Eren clamps his mouth shut, the intense heat behind Levi’s glare enough to melt the sun. “No.”

“No. I’m not a graduate.”

“Oh so you’re a normal college kid?”

Levi raises an eyebrow at him. “You ask a lot of fucking questions. Get me more milk, kid.”

It hits 9 a lot faster than he expects, Levi nursing his fifth cup of tea while Eren sweeps. He notices small things about him, like how he holds his cup by the mouth rather than the handle, how he manages to fold on leg over the other effortlessly, how he keeps sanitizer and a handkerchief on his person. His faces don’t change much and occasionally his eyebrow will twitch at Eren’s attempts to be funny. 

“You live around here?” Levi taps his fingers on the counter.

Eren hangs his apron on a small hook, nodding. “Yeah, on 17th,”

“I’ll give you a ride. Unless you like walking then whatever.”

“Rides are cool.” 

“Your enthusiasm is shit.” 

Eren switches off the light to the restaurant, keys pressed into his palm. He locks the door tight, checking once then twice to make sure. Levi’s eye roll is practically vocal. Eren goes over the different types of cars Levi could possibly have, something chic and small, sophisticated. So when he sees 300zx, lowered, sleek and black, it’s almost what he’s expecting. In reality Eren figured Levi for a Porsche guy. Its parked along the curb, near a meter.

Levi doesn’t remark on his staring, unlocking the car with a small flick of his wrists. He also doesn’t comment on the aggressive way Eren sits in his seat, car bouncing, but he does give Eren a side-glance. They don’t talk, aside from Eren directing him towards his house. 

“Do you live far from here?”

Levi shrugs. “I live near the station. I drive down here to see Hanji.”

There is a fondness in his voice churns something in the pit of Eren’s stomach. 

“Are you guys-“

“A lot of fucking questions. Gonna be a detective one day?” But Levi is smiling, small and private and Eren keeps quiet. They draw near to his apartment building, the car slowing to a stop in front of it.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.”

Eren thanks Levi for the ride.


	3. The Multiple Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin lends a helping hand. Levi works in a bookstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soo sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy it. ^^

Mikasa is gone when Eren finally manages to crawl out of bed. There is a mug of old coffee sitting on the table, wrinkled pamphlets scattered around the surface. They read Out In The Open in bold with a picture of a broken wall. The kitchen is messy, pans and dishes packed inside the sink. It smells like grease and baking powder. The mess is also the only indication that Mikasa has even been home, no note or any type acknowledgement.

It doesn't feel like a weekend or a Saturday. Eren checks the clock on the wall, his eyes fluttering over the different lengths of the arms until he manages to figure out that its almost noon. He makes a sandwich, unsurprisingly plain with no cheese or lettuce because Mikasa only has meat. Its close to twelve thirty when Eren puts himself together. He dresses slowly, as if he was still at home, listening. His mother would be in the living room under a thick blanket, face pale, hair inky and black. Sometimes she'd call his name and smile weakly up at him, other times it was as if death settled temporarily over her. He tries not to think, writes a note for Mikasa and remembers to lock the door.

It takes a good ten minutes to find the cake shop Armin texted him about because Eren's sense of direction is awful and everything looks the exact same. He finds it on the corner of Broad St, near a museum. Its small, cute without décor and glam. There a few tables and a bookcase. A cute old man is standing behind the counter wearing a worn straw hat. His smile is like Armin's.

“Ah you came!”

Eren feels his eyebrow twitch, the fabric of his shirt sticking to his back. There is a thin layer of sweat caressing his skin and Eren doesn't remember his town being this hot or the sun being a smoldering piece of shit but the way Armin's eyes light up make it a bit more bearable. Armin waves him over to a table near the back, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. 

“I got lost.”

Armin nods. “I could tell. It usually takes everyone else a few minutes to get here. Did you walk? You're sweating.”

“It's really hot.” 

“Yeah. Happens here a lot. I miss the breezes.”

Eren did too. He misses how close things were, how the sun warmed his skin rather than burned it. Eren doesn't think the sun has changed, just everything else. 

“Thanks for getting me caught up.” Eren manages a smile.

Armin beams at him. “It's no problem. I'm, uh, happy to help.” He picks up a book on the table and waves it in the air. His tense expression does nothing for Eren's anxiety because English only had so many good reads.

“That bad?” Eren winces when Armin shrugs.

“Well, its not fun.” Armin sighs.

Eren takes a napkin from the little container near the window and wipes the ick from his brow. He folds his elbows on the table, eying the book with fierce determination. His gaze meets Armin's.

“Alright. Let's do this.”

It takes an hour to fully go over the Crucible, Armin's hands constantly moving animatedly as he talks. Eren hates every character in the play. Its not a hard decision to make. The old man, who Eren finds out is Armin's grandpa, brings them hot chocolate after Armin decides they need a break.

“So how do you like it here?” Armin inquires, placing tiny marshmallows in his mug.

Eren blows on his hot chocolate. “'s boring, I guess. It wasn't much better back home. At least I have money now.”

Armin nods politely. “Where do work?”

“Hanji's.” He notices the way Armin's face perks up. “You've been?”

“I've never eaten there but I know her. Hanji is a bit weird. She tells me about her research when I ask.” Armin takes a sip of his drink, a grimace settling over his features. “Are you working tonight?”

Eren shrugs. “Hanji hasn’t sent me anything so for now, no. Why?”

When Armin's cheeks darken, Eren pins it off on nerves. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the bookstore with me. You know because you don’t have the book.” He hurries to add. “I can only help you so much without you reading.”

“Yeah, that would be awesome.” 

“There's a place that has used books. No use buying a new one seeing as we're almost done.” Armin explains, rising from his seat. He collects their empty mugs and waves to his grandfather as he approaches.

“You guys heading out?”

Armin nods. “I'll be back before 4.”

“Thank you for the hot chocolate.” Eren calls as they leave. 

Armin's grandpa gives him a wrinkled smile, arm raised in a wave. The sun greets them with the same intensity that followed Eren to the shop and he wishes he had an umbrella. It wouldn't really help but the rays wouldn't be burning into the back of his head. He imagines devils dancing under his skin.

“Were your friends sad to see you leave?”

Eren shakes his head, grateful for the shade of a nearby building. “I didn't have any.”

Armin glances at him. “You didn't have any? It's such a small place.”

“I picked a lot of fights.”

“You do seem to have an abrasive personality.”

Eren nudges him in the arm and Armin laughs. Its a warm sound that scratches its way into his being. He discovers that Armin left Zhiganshina because his parents died abroad in a hiking accident and his grandfather was his last remaining relative. It reminds Eren of his own life just he wouldn't be all alone if his father died, he had Mikasa. 

“You live with your sister? Is she nice?”

“She's alright. We don't talk much.”

“Why not?”

Eren shrugs his shoulders, noticing Hanji's shop coming up on their right. He knows Mikasa is trying, knows that she knows that he blames her for almost everything. Eren sometimes weighs his option of saying sorry but he thinks of their mother lying in the middle of the living room as his father and Mikasa leave without so much as a glance backward. 

“I'm sorry. I was curious.” 

Eren hadn't realized he never responded. “It's ok.”

He glances inside little shops as they past, customers scattered about, holding different articles of clothing and trinkets. The bell over the bookstore door dings when Armin tugs it open. Its a dimly lit aside from the shine from outside. The smell of incense lingers in the air, crisp like autumn. Eren peers around, transfixed at the tall shelves pressed against the walls with well used books. 

A ladder is perched against one of them, a small man pressing books into empty spaces. Armin wanders off towards the back, expectant of Eren to follow. Eren feels his eyebrow twitch when the man shifts in their direction, eyes narrowed at the remaining books in his hand. Eren recognizes the shaved undercut, the neatness of dark hair, his poise of complete, calm-

“Oi, brat. You fall in a lake?”

Levi's eyebrow arches, the corner of his mouth flickering downward. He eyes Eren closely, setting the books down on a nearby shelf. Levi climbs down the ladder with an unnatural grace, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes rake over Eren.

Eren almost says something until he realizes how dressed down Levi appears than when he first met him. He takes in the rolled up jeans, the lazy way Levi wears t-shirt. It clicks together. “You work here?” 

Levi folds his arms. “What's it look like, brat? Jesus, you're disgusting. I'll get you a towel or some wipes. Or a shower. Maybe some bleach.”

Eren isn't sure what he's going on about until he realizes the clamminess in his shirt and how cold the inside of the store is. He feels the sweat drying, broken pieces of crust moving when he touches his face. A wet towel hits him in the face. Eren makes a noise akin to a dying whale.

“You a vampire or something? There's no reason why you're this disgusting.”

“It's hot.” Eren mumbles into the cloth, wiping his face.

“Gross.”

“You have air conditioning.” Eren huffs defensively.

“There's this invention called the bus. It also has air conditioning.”

Eren looks at Levi, eyes wide with mortifcation. “Buses are gross.”

Levi rolls his eyes, another towel draped over his arm. He hands it to Eren, watching with a scrutinizing gaze as the other wipes himself clean. Armin wanders over to them, expression hesitant as he watches the exchange. He clears his throat, visibly shrinking back when Levi flicks his eyes over in his direction. 

“This your friend?”

Eren nods. “Yeah, this is Armin.”

Armin waves slightly. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. Why are you here?” His attention moves back to Eren.

“We need a copy of the Crucible.”

“If you're reading the Crucible that makes you what? A senior?”

“Junior. I'm in AP.”

Levi snorts. “Ooh kids got some smarts.” 

“You callin' me stupid?”

“If the shoe fits. You working tomorrow?” 

Eren frowns at the sudden change in subject. “I don't know yet.”

Levi clicks his tongue. “She said she was going to give you a schedule.” He spares Armin a glance. “Your friend is quiet.”

“Ah- I'm sorry. Actually there was a book I wanted to find. I'll leave you guys to it.”

Eren blinks. “Oh alright.” 

He doesn't miss the disappointed look in Armin's eyes or the way he turns slowly and walks away. Levi nods, spinning on his heel. He motions Eren to follow with a roll of his shoulders. Eren follows him into a farther part of the shop. They pass a small sitting area with a hammock and a bean bag. He sees books of various sizes, various stages of age marked with names he's never heard of in bold print. 

Levi comes to stop in front of a narrow bookcase. It's smaller than the others. Some of the books don't have covers. He crouches down, one arm folded against his stomach and reaches out to take one of them out. Its in decent condition with a section of the cover missing but the words 'The Crucible' are bolded in yellow. 

“Is that all you needed?” Levi hands it to him.

Eren grasps it, the tips of their fingers barely touching. They pull away at the same time. Levi averts his eyes.

“Do you have any recommendations? Reading is cool, ya know? When its not school.”

Levi frowns at him, his eyes glittering with amusement. He folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head slightly to the side. Eren feels the thud of his heart in his ears. Silence falls in between them and he thinks he's going to say no.

“Alright. I've got some books you can read that aren't shit.”

It takes almost an hour for Eren to shift through the list of reads Levi stacks in front of him. He gets Armin's help in deciding. His friend does so with less enthusiasm. Levi fixes them tea and watches from the hammock as Eren flips through books until he settles on two of them besides The Crucible. Armin doesn't say much. 

“So just bring 'em back when I'm done?” 

“Don't bring them back covered in piss or something. But yeah.” 

Armin is standing by the door, appearing dejected. He keeps looking between Eren and Levi, fingers twitching on the door knob. Levi sees them off with a curt nod and hands Eren a water bottle.

“Keep hydrated. It's gross when you don't.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

Levi shrugs. “Maybe. Why you going to stop by? I'm not an entertainer, brat.”

“I.. I was only asking.” 

Levi rolls his eyes. “Come by around 6 then. Maybe I'll think of more things.”

Armin doesn't wave when they begin walking even though Eren does. Levi stands in the doorway until they're out of view.


	4. The Yammer Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin stays the night, cheesy films are watched, Levi enjoys kicking.

Mikasa likes Armin. Eren can tell by the way she quietly smiles and how she offers him desert rather than suggest a bedtime. It's easier to be around her when they have a buffer. Eren likes Armin too. He's easy to talk to when he isn't stuttering over words and blushing. His grandfather swings to drop off some clothes, old as ever with a bit more light in his eyes.

“Is this the friend who gave you the books?” Mikasa inquires once Armin is out of ear shot.

Eren shakes his head, feeling his cheeks heat up. He considers mentioning Levi but he wasn't really sure if the older man considered him a friend despite allowing him to borrow books. Mikasa shuffles the plates into the dishwasher and leans against the counter, eyebrow raised. Her hair slides past her shoulders, sleek and beautiful. Eren gestures to it with his fingers.

“Think it's time for a hair cut?” She beats him to it.

Eren nods. “Probably. You used to say it was a nuisance.”

“It is.” Mikasa agrees easily. “So another friend?”

Eren shakes his head. “Just a guy from the bookstore.

Mikasa doesn't push, Eren wouldn't have answered anyway, and taps the tip of his nose before wandering off into her room. He rubs the affected area furiously, animatedly glaring at the now closed door. Eren decides to be useful while Armin is away for the moment and wanders into his room. He kicks aside his suitcase, making a mental note to unpack, and tugs out a futon from the linen closet. He lays it on the floor near his bed, closer to the closet, and sets a pillow at the edge. Eren tugs his wool blanket down from his bed, tossing a spare comforter onto the bed.

“Ah, my grandfather wanted me to give you guys this.”

Eren startles and peers over his shoulder at the other, arms clutched close to his chest. Armin gives him a strange look before gesturing to his hands. There is a box in Armin's hands with a clear casing. Mini cakes decorate the inside in the shape of various tiny animals wearing little bows. Eren bites his bottom lip. Armin's ears tint pink.

“Too much? What were you doing?”

“A bit. It's cute though.” Eren pats the floor beside him. “Making my bed.”

“I can sleep on the futon.”

Eren shakes his head. “I'm used to sleeping on the floor.”

Armin walks over, plopping down in the spot. He shrugs off a backpack and sets the box in between them. Eren works the case open and picks up a mini-fox cake. He eats it in one bite, smiling, all teeth and breading and frosting. It coats the roof of his mouth.

“That's gross, Eren.”

“Vhant some?” 

Armin swallows. “If you chew properly, maybe.”

Eren rolls his eyes and shoves the container towards the other. Armin takes one after a pause. The cakes are too sweet with the frosting melting away as soon as they eat them. Eren makes sure to leave two behind for Mikasa, which lead to splitting 6 between them. He doesn't regret it.

“Your grandpa is going to put me in the hospital.” Okay, maybe he does.

Armin laughs, lifting a hand to his mouth. “Customers keep telling me that.”

“'s too good. I can't. Gotta destroy all your grandpa's recipes.”

“Don't do that. He'd be really sad.” Armin pouts.

Eren struggles to stand, his bed looking nicer with each tremble of his legs. He wills himself straight. “You want water?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

Eren wanders out of his room and towards the kitchen, Armin wobbling behind him. He takes out two glasses, different lengths, one round, one short and takes Mikasa's filter out of the fridge. Eren hands Armin the large glass.

“How do you know the guy at the bookstore?”

Eren takes a long drink. “He's friends with Hanji.”

“He seemed a bit..” Armin flops his hand. “different.”

“I think its a personality flaw.” Armin giggles at that.

“Are you really going by there tomorrow?”

Eren shrugs. “Don't see why not. Books boost intelligence right?”

“Let's hope.” Armin mumbles into his glass.

Eren punches his shoulder playfully, earning another set of giggles. He nudges and pushes until Armin is scrambling to get on the other side of the counter, eyes lined with tears, creased upwards. Eren has never met too many people who are ticklish on their shoulders or arms, actually he never has, but Armin's laughter is too infectious for him stop. 

“You'll wake your sister.”

Eren pauses. “She sleeps like the dead. You're just chicken.”

“Tickling isn't cool, Eren.”

“I wouldn't know. I don't get ticklish.”

Armin gapes at him. “Everyone gets ticklish.”

Eren pats his stomach. “Not me. My mom tried.”

“Where is your mom now?”

“In the ground, under a tree just outside of town.”

“O-Oh, I'm sorry.” Armin rubs his arm nervously.

Eren nudges him again. “Hey, I'm not going to act like I'm the only one who knows what it feels like.”

Armin looks up at him. “And your dad?”

“Who knows?” 

Because Eren didn't and he's sure Mikasa didn't either. They never discussed their father at all. He was never accidentally brought up or hinted at. He never existed to them beyond his first disappearance. The man didn't even come home for his wife's funeral. But Eren doesn't like to think of it. He urges Armin back into the living room, fumbling along the couch for the remote. They watch the Syfy channel, laughing at sleazy b-rated creature features until Eren falls asleep.

He wakes up in the middle of night to the lights off and a blanket wrapped over him. Armin is slouched against him, face buried in the crook between Eren's shoulder and the couch. Mikasa's door is open, bleary blackness pressing against the grey of the living room. Eren straightens slowly, wincing at the dull pain in his side. He carefully moves Armin onto the couch and rises to his feet. After checking Mikasa's room it dawns on him that she's not here. It's close to 6 in the morning.

Eren walks back to Armin. “Hey.”

He keeps his voice soft, rocking the other's shoulder gently until he gets a sleep filled 'mmf'. Armin blinks up at him, face scrunched up, as he raises a hand to his eyes. He sits up at Eren's guidance and reluctantly follows him into his room. Eren eases Armin onto his bed, ignoring the way the other boy presses into him. He tucks him in, snorting at all of Armin's sleepy 'times it'. 

“It's 6 something. I dunno.”

Armin's head rolls against his pillow, hair spreading across the surface like a fan. He blinks up at Eren, nodding sluggishly as he adjusts.

“You didn't finish Scarecrow.”

Eren winces. “It was a crappy movie anyway, like geeze. Go to bed.”

He lies down on the futon he made for himself, tiredly staring into the darkness. The blurred, black image of the ceiling fan takes shape the longer he stares. It moves slowly. A soft sigh reaches his ears, more shuffling and Armin's arm falls over the edge, dangling limply. Eren falls asleep on the futon, idly watching Armin's arm swing back and forth.

It doesn't feel like he's been asleep long, or that he even fell asleep at all. It feels like a second passes when Armin is nudging him awake because he needs to leave and it's close to 5 in the afternoon. Eren dresses slowly, scrummaging through his suitcase for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

“Thank you for letting me stay over.”

Eren shrugs his shoulders, toeing on a pair of shoes. He helps Armin pack up his clothes, makes sure that every article of clothing is tucked safely away. The sun is just as gross and strong as it was the day before but the walk back is nice because Armin tells him about family vacations he and his parents had taken to the sea. The stories stir something deep inside him. Eren's never seen the sea before, he's never been on a vacation. 

“You want to come inside?” Armin asks as they draw closer.

Eren checks his phone for the time. “Nah. I'm going to swing by Levi's for a second then head home. I'm pretty beat.”

The look of disappointment that crosses Armin's face is gone as soon as it arrives. He gives Eren a small smile. “Walk safely.”

“I'll text you.” 

Armin's expression brightens considerably. “Alright.”

Eren gives a short wave to Armin's grandpa as the other wanders inside. He waits until Armin disappears into the backroom to head down the street. His sense of direction gets him turned around twice. Eren manages to find a familiar landmark and somehow makes it to the bookstore.

“Where's pipsqueak?”

Levi is sitting behind the register this time, holding his cup of tea in the precarious way that he does. He has one leg crossed over another, a white bandana wrapped around his neck. Eren notices the cleaning supplies on the counter. 

“Armin?” Eren asks, realizing that the other had asked a question.

Levi merely stares at him.

“Right. Yeah. I walked him home on the way here.”

Levi takes a sip of his tea, cool eyes giving Eren a once over. Eren folds his arms across his chest, cheeks burning as Levi's scrutinizing gaze meets his.

“The fuck are you wearing?”

“I didn't know that you couldn't walk out in sweatpants.” Eren argues.

Levi sets down his cup. “You can't. It's a crime against humanity and it makes you look fucking sloppy. Did you just climb out of bed? Did you even brush your- No. I expect you didn't. Jesus fucking christ. You kids give zero shits about hygiene.”

“Jesus, you're like a yammering old cow.” Eren snarks.

Levi holds up his hand, unfolding his legs in one smooth motion. “You can start making jokes when you actually begin to dress like you're fucking life isn't over, brat.”

He slides down off the stool he was sitting on, crossing over to the other side of the counter. Levi scans him once more before motioning him to follow with two fingers. Eren trails after him, glancing at the large stacks of books that haven't been put up yet. Levi leads him to the little reading area with the hammock. There is a small stack of books in the corner.

“What else do you do besides work here?”

“Contemplate my existence and wonder why I put up with the shit people in my life.” Levi sighs, turning to face Eren.

He points to the books. “It's three of them, ones kinda long.”

“Thanks.”

Levi shrugs his shoulders. “Like I said before, no shit. Just bring 'em back.”

Eren mock salutes. “Yes sir!”

“Don't fuck with me, kid. Or I'll tell Hanji you have a high pain tolerance.”

It sounds like a threat and based on the gleam in Levi's eyes it must be. Eren shudders involuntarily and moves to grab the stack.

“I race horses.”

Eren turns to him. He thinks of the first time he met LevI- the boots, mentioning of practice. The thought of Levi on a horse is startlingly humorous given the man's height. Levi kicks him in the shin.

“Ow!”

“I can read your thoughts. Height has nothing to do with horses, you little shit.”

“That doesn't mean you can go around- Ow!”

Eren nurses his leg, feeling the bruises beginning to form. He glares at Levi, who in return stares at him, bored. 

“You're a real piece of work.”

“Take it up with my parents.”

“You're too old to have parents.”

Levi kicks him again. “I'm only 25, you piece of shit.”

“Are they as scary as you are?”

“Wouldn't know. I haven't seen them since I was ten.”

Eren sits down on the floor, staring up at Levi. He follows the shadows under the man's eyes, his never changing expression. Eren doesn't know what to say but it doesn't seem like the other is fishing for sympathy. The sound of the door closing snaps him from his trance. Levi's eyes cut to the side, glittering briefly before he walks away. Eren peaks around to see a tall, blonde man standing near the front counter. He has a mature appearance that seems more patriotic than anything else, the face of determination. When Levi reaches him, the man smiles and reaches out to touch Levi's shoulder.

Eren looks away, his gut twisting. He feels his phone vibrate.

From: Hanji  
U up for wrkng?

Eren leans back into the bookcase behind him, the soft murmur of voices floating towards him. 

To: Hanji  
Sure.


	5. Convenience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin makes progress. (Maybe.)

“He races horses?” 

“Yeah, its kinda cool. Horses are neat. Jean kind of looks like one.”

Armin gives him a look and Eren returns it halfheartedly. He figures he's being a bit annoying, maybe a bit obsessive seeing as he's sitting in Armin's room searching horse races and equestrian centers on his laptop while Armin tries to complete their calculus homework. Which Eren should be doing but never mind that. Armin's room is a lot like Armin, cheery and painted in warm shades. Eren scrolls down the search results google has fished together and clicks on one at random. Its a news article speaking about a homeless kid becoming one of the best racers in history. The article is dated six years prior and has a picture of a young boy staring at the camera with a bored expression. His eyes are wild and familiar. There is a caption in the corner below it before the article starts.

“Levi 'Rivaille' Oleander.” Eren reads aloud. His eyes widen considerably. This was Levi. A young, still short Levi. Eren nudges Armin's arm until the other is groaning and rolling his head to face the screen. Eren points to the screen as if to say 'I googled useful things'. Armin narrows his eyes.

“Who's the man next to him?”

Its the first time Eren notices someone else in the picture. It's the man from the bookstore. He has a hand on Levi's shoulder, smiling softly like a proud father. 

“Erwin Smith.” Armin reads aloud.

Eren stares at the picture too long before closing his laptop. He leans against Armin's bed, eyes focused on the slowly moving ceiling fan. Big, blue eyes block his vision.

“You don't look so good, Eren.”

Eren wets his lips. “I should do my homework.”

“Rather than fantasize about your man crush?”

“He's not my man crush.”

Armin pinches his arm and gives it a light tug. “Your ears are red.”

The skin cools where Armin touched and Eren stares at him, feeling suddenly nostalgic. It's not the first time he's heard those words or felt his ear shift but it was the first time that it wasn't his mother telling him. She would never tell him again. Armin shifts uncomfortably beside him.

“Are you okay?”

Eren touches his ear. “'m fine. My mom used to do that.”

“I-I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to be insensitive!” The alarm on Armin's face makes him laugh because it's so sincere and embarrassed and the other looks on the verge of tears. Armin punches his shoulder.

“Hey! You can't just laugh! It's not funny!”

Eren breathes, his shoulders trembling. “Your face is priceless.”

“You are such an asshole. I thought I upset you!”

The pink hasn't left Armin's cheeks, his brow furrowed deeply as he stares down at his fists. He punches Eren's arm again and Eren knows he deserved it. 

“You're not allowed to be mad at me. It'll make me feel like an ass.”

Armin huffs, turning back to his homework. “You are an ass.”

“Are you going to help me with mine?”

There is a short 'no' before the scratching of pencil against paper fills the room. Eren considers apologizing but it didn't feel like that big of a deal. He settles for siding up close to Armin, elbows wedging themselves in between Armin's body and the desk. 

“I don't help assholes.”

“If I go with you to that dumb game convention will you forgive me.”

“It's not dumb” Armin grumbles. “but yes. Do you even remember what day it is?”

Eren's never been much of a liar. “No.”

Armin punches him again. “Help yourself.”

It takes a full thirty minutes for Eren to finish his calculus homework, Armin snickering beside him as he flips through a manga book because he's finished. Eren slumps against the floor, setting his laptop and homework on the ground beside him. He wonders what Levi is doing.

“You wanna go see a movie later?”

Eren looks at Armin, watching his tiny fingers tap furiously on his phone. He rolls his head, noncommittally. “What movie?”

“We were thinking about seeing 'The Wall' with Dot Pixis.”

“Is that the one about the religious fanatics and the monsters?”

Armin nods and Eren considers saying no for the sake of negativity. Armin seems to know what he's thinking, the muscles in his face twitching downwards. His hands are clutching the phone a bit too hard. Eren understands his nervousness, however he doesn't understand why Armin wants him around so much. He was boring and an overall piece of baggage.

“What time?”

“Um,” Armin checks his phone. “5:15.”

Eren's eyebrow twitches. “That's in ten minutes.”

“It's a last minute plan.”

It takes less than a minute for Eren steal a jacket from Armin, another minute for him to find his shows while Armin hurries him and nearly six minutes to run to the theater. Marco and Connie are waiting outside, bundled up to their chins which made no sense- the weather here made no sense. They wave excitedly when the other two come running up. According to Marco, these “last minute plans” were made a week ago. Eren doesn't mention it to Armin but he does settle for buying popcorn after its revealed that all their tickets had been paid for in advance.

The theater isn't packed but there are too many people for Eren's liking. They find seats in the middle row, towards the door and they squish into their seats- Marco, Connie, Armin and Eren. Eren settles on the armrest, skin brushing against Armin's. The movie starts, credits flashing with eerie images of old latin texts and grey human sacrifices. It opens with the wall, men and women gathered as they stare in horror as creatures come charging through the gates. A person in front of him jumps when a woman is torn from her husband and ripped apart.

Eren isn't paying much attention, too preoccupied with how Armin remains tense beside him as if he's too cold or been wound up too tight. Eren notices how close their bodies arm. He can feel the goosebumps along the others' arm. 

Eren leans over. “You okay?”

Armin nods furiously, eyes darting back and forth. He slowly turns his head, eyes downcast and draws his bottom lip in between his teeth. In the light, with the flashing and speckles of red that hit his face, Eren can still see how blue his eyes are. 

“I should have told you that we were planning to go to the movies.” Armin whispers softly.

“It's ok.”

Armin shakes his head. “No, it's not because you might not even want to be here. You may want to be at home with your sister or reading those books that guy gave you.” He looks at Eren. “Don't feel obligated to be here.”

The crunching noise of human's being devoured beats against his eardrums, but he doesn't turn his head from Armin. It feels as though for the first time, he's seeing what Armin sees when he looks at him. There is a level of importance, of acceptance, understanding- adoration. It's a painful realization when the only thing Eren has considered lately is how Levi is an asshole who has good taste in books and a shit way of showing how he cares.

But he could get behind this- he could feel something for Armin if he tried, if he focused because Eren felt that Armin was good, that he was- could be- safe. Eren glances down at their touching arms and moves his hand to where the tips of his fingers brush the top of the other's knuckles. He doesn't know what to say- never been a stickler for saying things he didn't feel passionate about. And Eren didn't feel passionate about this, about Armin but he could be.

Armin is staring at him when he looks back up, slowly withdrawing his hand away. He leans in though, hesitant, eyes squinting against the loud explosion of the movie and presses his mouth to Eren's. Eren thinks Armin knows- actually he's pretty sure Armin knows- but doesn't care. He doesn't think he cares either because it's his first kiss, in a movie theater. Armin's lips are soft, sweet like how he likes his coffee and Eren doesn't mind kissing back. 

“You guys are gross.” Connie whisper-shouts, earning a shush from an old man sitting in front of them.

Eren expects Armin to pull away quickly, bright red and embarrassed, but instead he moves away slowly, lips brushing, until he's settled in his seat, eyes straight ahead. They don't kiss during the movie, fingers intertwined under the jacket in Armin's lap. It's warm, cozy. 

“I heard you guys were making out. That's pretty gross.” Marco smiles, eyebrows wiggling. It's the grossest thing Eren's ever seen.

Armin rolls his eyes, the tension from earlier gone completely. He's still holding Eren's hand, their palms clammy. Connie waves a hand at them, mumbling something about lovebirds.

“What did you think of the movie, Arlert? You saw the original.”

“There was a lot of jump scares, but a good amount of substance. It was good.”

Connie turns to Eren. “What about you?”

“It was alright. I liked the main characters passion.”

Marco shudders. “Anger, you mean. I'd never see anything like that again. Did you see when that guy was split in half? They only found half his body. I felt bad for his friends.”

Connie wrinkles his nose at him. “You're still going on about that. I'm going to tell Jean to start calling you 'Half Life'.”

The banter goes on until Marco decides to threaten to leave without Connie, walking halfway to his car just to prove it. Connie offers them a ride but Eren shrugs it off when Armin asks him. Eren walks Armin back to the shop, the chill of the air making him shiver despite having a jacket.

“Are you going home this time too?” There is a smile in his voice.

Eren considers going home, sitting in his room until he manages to fall asleep. He considers Armin, waking up to his arm dangling over the side of the bed, hair messy and golden. 

“I think I'll stay.”

Armin appears pleasantly surprised, a small smile curling into the corner of his mouth. Eren doesn't know if you can measure emotions based on the width of a smile but if you did, Eren would say that it's the dimmest he's ever seen. He follows Armin up the stairs, shedding off the jacket like dead weight. The moment the door snaps closed Armin hesitates before moving to his closet. He drags out a series of blankets, varying in size and thickness and stares at them as if they had faces.

“I get hot during the nigh if that helps.” Eren supplies helpfully.

“Was it that obvious?” Armin blushes, plucking a white blanket from the stack. He gestures to the bed. It was big enough for two and then some. Connie could probably fit but Eren would never consider sharing a bed with him. 

“Inside or out?”

“Out.”

“Sweet. I fall off my bed if I'm not near the wall.” Armin grins sheepishly.

He asks Eren if he wants to borrow some basketball shorts, repeatedly telling him not to judge his bunny slippers that are poking out from under his bed. Eren bursts out laughing each time he looks at them. Armin crawls into bed first, pushing back against the wall as far as he can go. Eren follows after, unsure how to position his arms, so he settles on his side, facing Armin, who is appearing more owlish with each passing second. 

“We should probably talk about this.”

“Probably.” Eren agrees easily.

“I don't know if this a good idea.” Armin notes quietly. “Feels kinda rushed.”

Eren didn't know how relationships worked but he did know that there wasn't really a timeline for them. He also didn't think this was exactly a 'relationship' yet. Maybe Armin didn't either. Armin moves closer. Eren mimics the gesture. It keeps going until their noses are bumping and Eren is laughing because Armin keeps freaking out until Eren slots their lips together. The kiss is simple, more private without bone crunching being the soundtrack. Armin's hands find his shoulders, bodies pressed together. Their mouths are a bit sloppy but Armin seems to have more experience in this field than Eren so he follows his lead, a working rhythm that leads to Armin bent over him, arms bent at the elbows near his face.

“You're burning up.” Armin giggles against him.

“Shut up.” Eren breathes, nipping at Armin's bottom lip.

Armin kisses him one last time. “We should stop before this escalates.”

“And before your grandpa comes in here waving a bucket.”

“That'd be an experience.”

Eren snorts. “Could you imagine? Your grandpa with a radish and a bucket and he's screaming about back in his day.”

Armin rolls onto his back, eyes on the ceiling. “Your imagination is disturbing. He wouldn't have a bucket, he'd have a rake.”

“That's scary.”

Eren finds Armin's hand underneath the blanket and grabs it. Their fingers lace together immediately. He can make out the curve of Armin's smile.

Yeah, he can get behind this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. :) Thank you so much for reading~

**Author's Note:**

> (◕‿◕✿)


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